


Order of Operations

by Cat_With_a_Quill



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Regret, a lot of character regret that I don't regret, characters can be idiots, implication of suicide but it's so vague I don't know if you could tell, mention of dissociative identity disorder, sorry if I got my facts wrong, which side came first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25828861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_With_a_Quill/pseuds/Cat_With_a_Quill
Summary: Based on which side would emerge when in Thomas' early life using research, who was the oldest? The youngest? And when did it all go wrong for the 'dark sides'?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. Addition

At first, it was as Virgil had expected: Dark nothingness. For a bit, he was worried, because he couldn’t feel anything, and he was afraid that he might just disappear, stop being conscious, or worse, be stuck here in utter nothingness for eternity. He had always wanted to believe in heaven, but some part of him was always worried that it might not be the case. 

Then again, if heaven was real, he doubted he had gotten into it, especially with what he had just done.

Then, suddenly, he felt again. He felt his clothes on his body, and his bangs in his eyes, his thick hoodie heating him up, wearing it despite the warm weather. Or, what had been warm weather in the living world. Here, wherever here was, was completely neutral, not chilly at all and not warm whatsoever. 

Then there was a sense of warmth. It wasn’t normal warmth, it wasn’t on his skin, and yet it was, like he was feeling something but not through his own body. 

Then a voice, soft but strong, kind but firm, neither masculine nor feminine, only ringing through his head. 

“Virgil Alex Storm, you have been selected to have a second chance in the form of an aspect of consciousness. In simple terms, you will be a side of the personality of a child who will be named Thomas Sanders. You will not be the only one, but due to the nature of what you will represent for this child, you are the first.

“You will act as Thomas’ instincts of self preservation, what you might know as fight or flight, the instinct for what he needs to survive, the fear and the anxiety, and so on. You will be able to feel what he feels, and if you tune in, see and hear and experience what he sees, hears, and experiences. Others will come in time to represent other aspects of Thomas, as he develops them. This space is your own, a realm of consciousness. You and the others will be able to manipulate it as well as what is in it as you wish. You can also choose an age that feels appropriate to your role, if you so desire, though the age you currently are is around what most choose. 

“As Thomas grows, their own consciousness will develop, and if you tune in, which I suggest you do, you will be able to hear and manipulate their thoughts through their instincts and feelings of fear or anxiety. It may not sound so, but it is an important and good role. You are the protector, and I hope you will take it seriously. 

“Do not give Thomas thoughts of what is beyond the veil for some such as you, do not let him know of your past life. You will know how it works as naturally as you knew how to breathe in your first life.

“You will not hear from me again like this for a lifetime. Try to make this one a bit longer and better, please. I want to see you end up in a happier situation.” 

The voice disappeared and suddenly Virgil could feel a sense of gravity, and ground beneath his sneakered feet. He didn’t quite understand what was happening, this wasn’t even a possibility he had ever heard of. He was panicking more than anything, he didn’t know what to do or think, he was suddenly just afraid of what this all meant. 

A side of some person? What did that mean? He represented their anxiety- Actually he could see why that might be, though not how any of the rest of this made sense. It didn’t, how could he manipulate someone's thoughts? How could he use the senses of someone else-  
And that was when it happened. Suddenly he could feel and hear things that didn’t make sense at the time, he could hear a baby crying but it sounded and almost felt like it was coming from him, and he was panicking again. The crying grew a bit louder. It was almost like it was responding to his feelings. 

It was. The voice had told him he could influence the emotions of whoever this kid was, that must have been what was happening! So he tried to calm himself, tried to take comfort in what he felt in his own body instead of the child’s, his feet on the ground and his hands in his pockets. He tried to breath. 

Virgil was the first, as the instincts are imbued within, but he would not be the last. 

(Fun fact, Virgil, representing any and all _instinctual_ senses relating to self preservation along with other types of anxiety, would be the first, or in some universes, oldest, side, being with Thomas from birth.)

It was almost half a year that had passed. Virgil had figured out how to manipulate this place, but he had only built a little area for himself with his mind. It wasn’t much, just a closed in room, he couldn’t deal with the infinite gray, with a small bed for when Thomas was asleep and didn’t need him and a bit of a Halloween aesthetic. It wasn’t much, Virgil was never the type who could easily visualize loads of interesting details and it seemed devices like TVs and phones and other distractions could not be conjured,at least not yet, but he called it home in the boy’s head. 

One day, Thomas was awake. When he tuned in, it really was coming naturally now, after almost six months of practice, he could feel what Thomas felt. He was fine for now, not hungry, didn’t need to go, he was fine objectively. But he could also feel his longing for attention. He could feel that Thomas wanted someone, his Mother or Father, to come and be with him, but since he didn’t need anything, he had no reason to cry. 

That was when the second side showed up. 

He wore what looked like a costume, yellow gloves, a black shawl of sorts, a bowler hat, so on, all with yellow accents. He looked a little older than Virgil felt he still was, and he stood confidently. When he turned to him, Virgil had to swallow his surprise. 

He had heard of people with what he thought was called Vitiligo, a discoloration of part of the skin, but it had been vague, probably in a book a long time ago, he had never met someone who had it. The right side of the man’s face was a near white against the tanned pink of the rest of his skin. It was somewhat spotted, like scales, and there was a line of the normal skin tone from the corner of his mouth to his cheek, giving an almost reptilian look to that side. His eyes were a strange golden amber, completing the snake-like appearance. 

The man blinked for a moment, then slowly took in the room, the feelings, and finally, Virgil. Virgil had purple hair, somehow it had stayed the same state of dyed and the same length despite the passing time, perhaps the nature of this place, and wore a jacket he had upgraded with patches and stitches. The purple man took a step back, hands in his pockets. 

“Who are you supposed to be?” Virgil muttered, peering suspiciously through his bangs.  
The golden eyed man smiled. “Why, dear young Thomas needs attention, my friend, and I’m simply here to help him get it. Would you mind?” 

“What are you-” Suddenly, in the back of his mind, through Thomas’ ears, he heard the sound of the baby crying. There was nothing to cry about, Virgil knew it, it was his job to know it, but Thomas was crying. He was crying for the sake of gaining attention. 

The man chuckled. “That was far easier than I thought it would be. There’s more to this role than that voice, God I suppose, cared to explain. I suppose you may call me Deceit, my friend.” 

Virgil sneered. “Deceit? That’s what you’re having him do, lie about needing something in order to get attention?” 

“Mmm”, the man hummed, “Children develop a capacity for lies far earlier than most would think, it seems. And who is it that develops earlier?”

“Anxiety, at simplest. What’s your actual name? Or, what was, however that’s meant to be said, I don’t just want to call you Deceit forever.” 

“Why, I will only tell you if you tell me yours. Calling you anxiety… It just doesn’t seem to fit, does it?” 

Virgil huffed. “Virgil. The name is Virgil. What about you?” 

Deceit chuckled. “Well, I wasn’t actually going to tell you, but that name makes me feel a whole lot better about it. I suppose you may call me Janus, though I would prefer we keep that between us.” 

The purple man actually laughed a little at that. “Janus, huh? Sure, we can just call ourselves by what we represent to anyone who comes later. Nice to meet you. I hope you don’t make my job harder.” He paused. “I don’t like the idea of Thomas lying too much, someone could find out he’s lying. I don’t want a boy who cried wolf situation to happen.” 

Janus nodded. “Of course. I think this will make your job easier, actually. I’m certain you’ve been starved for proper mentally-developed company.” Virgil nodded, though stood a little defensively at the statement. “Now then, why don’t we see if we can’t add a little on to this place?” 

(Fun fact, even infants, at about six months old, have a capacity for ‘deceit’ and a sort of selfishness, lying in the form of crying when all they need is attention, making Janus the second ‘oldest’ side. It won’t be until around three to eight years that this becomes telling formulated lies, denying things they did and such, but it is still deceit in its earliest forms.)

Janus and Virgil had started to get to know each other rather well, as another ten months passed. Thomas had learned to walk, though, and that soon meant Virgil was working overtime to make sure he didn’t get hurt. They had just woken up, each in their own small room, when they found someone new.

They had showed up in Virgil’s room, and they were clutching their head like they were trying not to go crazy. Janus walked in, like every morning, and froze as he saw the new figure with his back turned. Virgil’s gaze shot to meet Janus’, a silent reminder to and from each of their half-joking agreement so long ago, before both looked back at the figure, Virgil hurrying to stand. 

Janus cleared his throat and the figure spun around. Their hair seemed to be naturally red, though it was half dyed green, and they had the green eyes and subtle freckles of a ginger. They looked like a young adult, only a little older than Virgil from what they could tell, and he dressed surprisingly fashionably in reds, greens, and whites, if a bit disheveled in some ways. He also wore a small gold crown like a prince, and as the two processed the third, they realized his clothes seemed almost princely too, in the same costumey way Janus’ outfit was formal. 

“Ah.. This… This is strange. I don’t know that I quite believe it still.” The man chuckled. “I suppose you two are other sides or something? This is all so beyond my imagination, and I apparently am the imagination!.”

“Oh? Imagination? I was wondering when someone like that would show up, it is difficult to keep a child self-entertained with the just two of us.” Janus smiled. “Nice to have someone other than stormcloud over here, finally.” 

“Hey!” Virgil seemed a little offended, “I’m not _that_ bad! _You’ve_ been the annoying one since you got here!” 

The ginger man chuckled. “I see you two know each other rather well. I’m Roald, or.. That’s what our host was called.” The other looked back at the man in confusion, and he blushed a little. “It was quite tragic,” He motioned dramatically as he talked now, “You see, in life, I had a disorder, it created multiple consciousnesses in our mind!” He gestured to his head, “We had to hide it, we were afraid of what would happen if anyone discovered it, but we did research it. 

“I am not certain how many of us are here, in this child’s mind, I feel far less presences than I once knew, but I am actually still deciding on a name for my part of the congi. You see, two of my alters, as they’re called, merged together before our death; Roman and Remus, the two creative ones. They were like brothers, you know. I was actually surprised us two, of all of us, merged. Roman was the host personality, though he preferred the name Roman to Roald in our mind.” 

Virgil smirked, hiding it behind his purple bangs. “Huh. first ol’ half face over here, then someone who had multiple personality disorder or whatever it’s called in life. I’m meeting all sorts of types I never got to meet in life.” 

“That would be what you get for dying before you could meet us, Anxiety.” Janus smirked and held out a hand. “It is nice to meet you, or the two of you, or however that might work, Creativity.” 

Roald shook his hand enthusiastically. “And you, my good sir! It seems you have a fellow appreciation for the theatrics of costuming in life!” they released hands. “Your friend, you called him Anxiety? I suppose that’s what you represent? And who might you be? What are your names?” 

“You may call me Deceit. We both decided we would rather forget our former names, though we can call you by one of yours if you like.” Virgil nodded as Janus finished, still hiding behind his bangs. 

“We could also just call ya Princy, for the costume.” The purple man muttered.

Roald laughed. “Any of the names will do, my friends! Though I will say, Anxiety, I believe the disorder has been renamed Dissociative Identity Disorder, for future reference. Now, why don’t we get to helping this child build his imagination! If this is as much as you could do for one room, I’d certainly love to get this place upgraded as well! A full on mind palace! I’m sure there will be more sides to come, after all!” 

(Fun fact, between a year and three years, children develop creativity, first in the form of curiosity and the ability to recall objects forms and such, giving them the ability to form the image of these objects in their minds and, through this, the early forms of creativity, playing pretend. This creativity will spike around the age of six, but it appears far earlier than that. This makes Roald, to be Roman and Remus once they split, the ‘middle child’[or children] so to speak.) 

Thomas learned to imagine, learned to pretend, as he also learned to talk as he grew. For almost two years, it was the three of them; Roald, Virgil, and Janus, though Roald only knew the others as Anxiety and Deceit, while the creative side himself took on several titles: The Prince, the King, the Duke, Roman, Remus, Roald, Creativity, Imagination, and more. 

He brought all kinds of thoughts, some that were simply fun games and others that sometimes made Virgil anxious for the mental stability of Thomas, though these were mostly kept in check in the boy’s mind for now. In the mind palace, which had quickly grown into almost a full world, a castle, a garden, even a surrounding forest and valley and sea in each direction of the horizon, here, disconnected from Thomas’ mind, Roald had no filter. He would curse and make rude or unsettling remarks along with his usual references to old movies and shows he had watched in life, as here, they knew Thomas could not hear them. 

Virgil would have gone ballistic if the child could hear everything they said in here. His job was to protect Thomas, and while at first, that seemed like a strange concept, as he grew attached to the boy, he grew very serious about that. He was Thomas’ protector, he was the one who would keep the boy in a good place, both mentally and physically. He was relieved that the boy had a far better family that Virgil had had, it made his job easier, and he was just glad he could experience a nice childhood for once, even secondhand.

He did appreciate the strangeness of Roald. Usually, he was just him, over dramatic and sometimes inappropriate, but sometimes one side of that or the other seemed to grow far stronger, and he suddenly insisted on either Roman or Remus depending on which side of that did. When he was really excited about a game he had created, saving someone from a dragon witch or an evil warlock, he referred to himself as Roman or the Prince. When he was acting a bit darker, the times when Virgil had to reign him into the deep mind the most, he preferred Remus or the Duke. It was as if the two altars had never fully fused. 

It was when Thomas was a little over three and a half that the fourth side appeared. He showed up in the garden, and was looking starry-eyed around at the detailed leaves of the trees and sunbeams shining over the castle walls. Virgil happened to be passing by and saw the man, quickly looking around to see if Roald or Janus were nearby only to find he would be alone in greeting this stranger for now. 

He pulled his hood up, braced himself, and made his way over to the blonde man who had started wandering the courtyard. He got his attention by clearing his throat, hiding behind his purple bangs as a blue gaze met his hazel eyes. 

“Ah.. It’s nice to see a new side again..” 

The blond’s face lit up brighter than the sun. “It’s all true then? And I get to live here now?! This is incredible! I had no idea the after life had the option of being like this!”

Virgil smirked a little. The man wore a simple light blue shirt with a grey cardigan tied around his shoulders. He had large glasses on his face. He looked like what Virgil expected a dad to look like on TV in some of the shows Thomas was allowed to watch. He seemed older than Virgil too, so it was fitting. “Yeah, it’s pretty crazy. Creativity is to thank for the palace, though. This place was literal nothingness when I got here.” 

“Oh?” The father-like figure smiled. “You must have gotten here a while ago, huh? How old is this Thomas we’re helping out now?” 

Virgil shrugged. “Three and a half, last I checked. I was here first, so yeah, it’s been a while now I guess.” 

“Wow, three already? I never thought to find out when kids developed a sense of morality! I guess now I know!” He reached out a hand. “My name’s Patton, but you can call me Dad!” 

Virgil raised an eyebrow at the comment but took the hand. “Anxiety. Nice to meet you, Patton.” 

“Aw, you represent Anxiety? Well I don’t want to call you that, that’s not good! What’s your name, Kiddo?” 

Virgil blushed a little in embarrassment. “You don’t look that much older than me, I’m not a kiddo. Anyway, I don’t really want to share my living name? I just.. You can just call me Anxiety, I don’t mind.” 

“Aw well, I’m just going to call you Kiddo then! So who else is here? I can’t imagine you’ve spent the last three years by yourself, that would be so lonely!” 

Virgil huffed a laugh. “Sometimes I wish I was alone again. There are two others, though, no matter how annoying they are. Constantly. They both get on my nerves. I’m hoping you won’t be like that. They’re Creativity and Deceit, but Creativity has a lot of names that you’ll probably learn over time. I don’t have the energy to list them all.” 

Patton frowned. “Deceit? At this early of an age? I hope you three haven’t been having Thomas lie too often, I’d hate to think he’s already on that path!” 

It was Virgil’s turn to frown. “What path? I mean, I was surprised at how earlier Deceit came up too, turns out infants cry just for attention as a lie sometimes, but he doesn’t do too much yet-” 

“Good, I am this child’s morality and feelings and I plan to set him on the right path to be the goodest person good can offer!” Patton smiled determinedly, his gaze never leaving Virgil. “Now, why don’t you show me around this place and introduce me to your friends, Kiddo?”  
Virgil sighed, but complied, Patton following with a skip in his step as Virgil led the way through the castle. 

(Fun fact, around the ages of 2 to 5, a child will begin to develop a sense of morals as they learn their rights and wrongs from their parents. They may not be able to really process these morals when it comes to more complex issues yet, but they will start to feel some guilt for doing the wrong thing and pride for doing something good. This makes Patton the second youngest side.) 

A lot changed now that Patton was there. He took charge a lot of the time, putting Virgil in the passenger's seat rather than the drivers. It made the purple man anxious, but he continued to do his best to protect Thomas. 

Patton had a large effect on the other sides as well. He influenced Roald to stay on the more innocent side, and Virgil watched anxiously as the creative side started to almost glitch, his hair and outfit changing as he drifted between being more Roman or Remus, like the two now merged alters were trying to split again. Janus began acting more and more sassy and sarcastic as Patton chastised him whenever he suggested crying for attention or taking something from a sibling without permission or lying. 

It was all so different, now that Patton was here to make Thomas feel bad for doing something bad. To make the other sides feel bad for what Patton saw as bad. It all made Virgil more anxious, which unfortunately started to make Thomas slowly more anxious.  
It didn’t feel like things should be changing as much as they were, but when Thomas was around five, things changed again. 

Virgil found Patton talking to the new arrival this time. He wasn’t having a good day, he was stressed and he hadn’t slept well, so he tried to sneak by without being seen. He had headphones pulled over his ears, playing a tune Roald had come up with for Thomas to hum along to, as it seemed the only music and shows here had to be memories of what Thomas had heard or seen. 

Despite the volume of the music, he could hear Patton calling him out as he passed the ‘library’ (every book was without words, aside from a few that held the words of what they had already read) and froze in the doorway. He sighed and pulled his headphones down around his neck, listening as two sets of footsteps approached. He could clearly tell which was Patton, the quick skipping beat, while the other was a more dignified march. Glancing up, he saw a man, taller than him and perhaps older as well, wearing a button up black shirt with a blue-striped tie. He wore glasses, more square as opposed to Patton’s round spectacles, and he simply gave off the aura of nerd. 

“Anxiety! We got a new side! This is Logan, he’s going to represent Logic!” 

The man called Logan adjusted his glasses as Virgil looked up at him through his bangs. “Salutations. It is a pleasure to meet more of who I suppose will now be my coworkers so to speak. I would assume Anxiety is what you represent and not your actual name?” 

Virgil shrugged. “I mean, it might as well be at this point. ‘S been five years of this job, kinda my entire purpose. It’s what I do best. ‘S good we finally have some logic to counter everyone else with their heads in the clouds.”

“Indeed, it does sound as though the group of you will be needing me in order to offer helpful insight into situations in a way the four of you have not been able to provide, as well as to retain information Thomas has learned. Patton tells me you have been rather forgetful as a group so far.” 

“You could say that.” Virgil looked between the two before looking back at his phone, the only app on it being the music with the few songs Thomas knew. “If you guys don’t mind, I have work to do. Can’t keep Thomas safe if I stop working to make him anxious.” 

Logan nodded while Patton pouted. “You don’t have to make him anxious all the time, I can keep him safe too! Besides, don’t you want to hang out with me and Logan? We can get to know each other while we show him around!” 

Virgil shook his head. “Thanks, Pops, but I’d rather not. I’m already at my people limit for today, I’d rather not push myself over the edge.” He Glanced up at Logan. “Good luck with the other idiots. Patton’s a bit much, but the other two are the really annoying ones.” 

Logan didn’t give a reaction, but Patton lectured Virgil about being nicer to the others as the purple clad man turned and walked away, turning back on the music he had listened to over and over again for a long time now. 

(Fun fact, a sense of logical, intuitive thought will develop in a child around the ages of 4-7. This makes Logan the ‘youngest’ side.)

Virgil was grateful for Logan’s contributions. He offered a fair bit of sanity that the anxious side felt they had been lacking before, and it was comforting. What was getting him more and more anxious was how unbearable the other three were getting. Patton was becoming more and more strict about Roald’s ideas and Janus’ contributions, if he let the latter contribute anything at all. 

Sure, Virgil had more and more been finding Remus and Janus unsettling, but hearing Patton constantly lecturing them made him even more anxious for Thomas, as the more he lectured them, the more he made Thomas feel guilty for what of the green and yellow sides’ contributions did get through. That growing anxiety led to Patton paying more attention to Virgil, trying to get him to be less anxious. While Virgil appreciated that he didn’t lecture him as much as the others, it still wasn’t always helpful, sometimes even worsening that anxiety. 

He was glad he wasn’t under the same stress as Roald, though. More and more, it seemed like the formerly fused consciousnesses of Roman and Remus were trying to separate, and Virgil could see that it wasn’t going well. They were under a lot of stress, and it seemed like they had a headache whenever he saw him, regardless of whether he was more Roman or Remus. 

Years went by. Thomas was approaching middle school, when Roald had apparently reached his limit. 

Creativity had been starting to work overtime, earning even more lectures from Patton about what ideas were welcome and what ideas weren’t. It was late at night, Thomas was asleep while the sides were gathered in what acted as the living room for what Patton insisted was a ‘Family Game Night’, watching the dream-o-vision, when it happened. 

Roald had always had the most control over the dreams, and Patton was chastising him about a dark part of the dream, which was causing Virgil a lot of anxiety, when it happened. 

It shocked Virgil so much that it caused a bolt of fear to shoot Thomas awake. 

The boy would notice no difference, how his mind worked had already been getting to this point largely because of Patton, but the sides would all immediately know the difference, and they would never be able to go back to how it was, as suddenly, where Roald had been standing, clutching his head, instead fell two people in opposite directions. One wore a white outfit with a bright red sash, gold detailing on the shoulders and a symbol on either arm. The other wore a dark, sparkly outfit with puffy sleeves and green accents. They all immediately recognized who the two must be: The Prince and the Duke. 

They looked almost identical, freckles and all, but the Duke had fully brown-green hair while the Prince wore his fully natural red. The Duke also sported a gray streak and a mustache, which the Prince did not. Roman, Creativity, in red and white, and Remus, now Intrusive Thoughts, in black and green. 

Patton rushed over to help them up, making sure they were okay before standing back, looking at the two who were looking at each other and then themselves in surprise. 

“I could feel us splitting, but I didn’t expect this..” Roman said wrinkling his nose as he studied Remus. 

“You don’t say, Prince E for everyone, we’re used to still being in the same body at least when we’re separate alters. Hey, now I can say whatever I want whenever I want to! Roman is a-” 

“What is happening?!” Virgil interrupted, “You guys just _split?_ That can _happen?_ What the hell! What do each of you represent now then? Are you both Creativity? How does that work?”

“Well,” Logan spoke up, “I would assume that they represent two different facets of creativity. Knowing how they acted previously, I would assume Roman will be the one Patton encourages to take the lead, figuratively representing the kids and PG option, while Remus, if and when he gets a word it, will represent a less desired, more inappropriate form of creativity.” 

“Ah, so now instead of the mixed salad, we have the two extremes of annoyance, over dramatic and immature.” Janus was watching more in interest than anything as he spoke. “I’m sure we will all find we prefer them like this to them balancing each other out,” He added with a hint of obvious sarcasm in his voice. 

“I’m sure you will all find that I will naturally be the favorite brother,” Roman spoke with a flashy smile, “I always was before we merged, after all!” 

“I find that to be unlikely, Roman, I have always found you both to be equally irritating, but perhaps future results will bear contradictory evidence to that,” Logan mused. 

“... Logan, just tell them that they’re both royal pains, no need to soften the blow with big words and false promises.” Virgil turned back to the two creative sides in opposite colors. “Anyway, what we should be worrying about-” 

“No.” Patton suddenly burst, “We don’t need any more worrying. _Thomas_ doesn’t need more worrying, you already give him more anxiety than he needs, especially at this time in his life, we are not adding this to the list of things you worry about for no reason!” He turned to the two creative sides. “Besides, this will make it easier to control Thomas’ imagination! As long as Remus stays only in the mind palace-” 

“Wow, Morality, choosing favorites already? You can’t just trap me in here forever.” 

Virgil hesitantly shrugged. “I mean.. I kind of agree with Pat, it will be easier for Thomas to stay on the good side without some of your… less desired input.” 

“Well then, emo nightmare, I would have expected you of all people understanding a job needs to be done no matter how unwanted that job is to these dorks.” Virgil hid behind his bangs at Remus’ words, but the others didn’t seem to understand the comment, aside from Janus, who nodded in agreement. 

“I have a feeling you’ll find him very easy to bottle up, Patton,” the selfish side said sarcastically, “He definitely won’t turn into a recurring nuisance if you start repressing him even more.” 

Roman scoffed. “Of course _you_ of all people would be on _his_ side, Deceit. If you three and the rest of the others would just agree to step back, Thomas could be _so much happier_ , he could chase his dreams honestly and without fear or distractions!” 

Virgil recoiled, offended. “Did you just include _me_ in the same category as _them_?”

“‘Them?’ Virgil, I’m not at all offended, I definitely wasn’t under the impression that we were friends, being the _original_ two sides and all!” 

Logan raised an eyebrow while Virgil recoiled into a ball. “The original two? How is it that I am only now hearing of this? Judging by how Patton always seemed to hold the most influence, I would have assumed he was one of the first.” He rubbed his chin with a hand, looking thoughtful. “Of course, I suppose it makes sense, considering the instincts would be the first to develop in a child..” 

Virgil wasn’t meeting anyone’s gaze anymore. “It doesn’t matter who was first. Patton took the lead as soon as he got here, and I was fine with that. But my point is Thomas _needs_ me, just as much as he needs Logic and Morality and..” He trailed off, looking between the now split sides. “... Some kind of creativity. But he _doesn’t_ need to lie, or to hear thoughts that are just…” He fixed his gaze on Remus, who preemptively looked a little hurt, “Unsettling.” 

“You cannot be telling me that Thomas _needs_ to feel anxious,” Roman scoffed at the idea. “If it weren’t for you, he would have the confidence to make more friends, try bigger things, chase bigger dreams!”

“Say more of what was on his mind,” Remus added, earning glares from the lighter sides. “What? It’s true.” 

“I don’t think others would appreciate some of the thoughts you try to give him,” Patton said in a lecturing tone, “I think it would be better if he didn’t have them at all.” 

“We know, Pat,” Anxiety spoke up sarcastically, “You’ve made all of your opinions very clear for the past.. What’s it been, seven years now?” 

“It definitely was not seven and a half,” Janus spoke up, unmasked annoyance lacing his tone. “And I definitely have not slowly grown more and more annoyed by your constant lecturing, Morality.” 

“I don’t think I lecture you guys that much-” 

“Well, you do,” Virgil cut him off, “I’m sorry to say it, but you do. It makes it harder to do my job.” 

“Really? It doesn’t hinder mine at all,” Deceit added. 

Roman huffed. “If you.. You dark sides can’t just, just back off, maybe we shouldn’t share the same castle. Maybe you’d understand how bad your effects can be if you have only each others’ company to deal with. I propose a second palace, across the sea, for you three and the rest of the dark sides.” As Roman spoke, Virgil’s panic grew and grew, his eyes widening as instead of avoiding eyes, he locked his shocked gaze on Princy. “I’ve had the idea for a while, but I couldn’t exactly execute it with Dukey over here connected to me.” The royal red figure slowly glared over so many of the others, everyone but Patton and Logan it felt, ignoring the stunned and hurt looks on their faces. “You will be relocated in the morning. Remus and the rest of you can do what you like to decorate it, as long as you stay in your places.” 

“Roman, I need to protect Thomas-” Virgil started.

Deceit started stammering almost simultaneously. “He needs some sense of selfishness-” 

“No, he doesn’t. What is unfortunate about this is that we can’t completely cut you off from him, we’re connected to him differently, but we can hide you away and hopefully dampen your effect. We don’t need an evil snake boy, a hot topic representative, amongst other… unplesantries taking the lead. We cannot risk it. You will leave the mind palace, instead you will reside in the nightmare estate.”

The others stammered a bit, but Roman was insistent, not even pitying his brother who had been part of him for so many years. Slowly, the other two ‘main light sides’ as Roman slowly proclaimed them, agreed that it could be for the best, though Patton looked somewhat sad and Logan a little doubtful. 

There were others there, of course, other sides that were satisfied enough to watch up till then, that had shown up at various points of Thomas’ development, but Virgil couldn’t bring himself to recall what they were doing or saying at the time. No one had managed to convince Roman that he was wrong, no one could stop it, and by the next morning, they were all corralled and sent off to the newly made ‘Nightmare Estate’ with their few ‘belongings’ that had been summoned over time. 

He couldn’t bring himself to take the rest of that trip down memory lane. He was already in tears from the memory, hiding away in his room. He was only forcing the memories now because these sides, these memories of meetings he dared to conjure, were becoming a problem, along with himself. A threat to keeping true to what they had been told, not letting on to Thomas that they were real, that they had been alive and had died, that they weren’t just little natural nudges of thoughts and rather real people influencing his mind. The videos, they had been Roman’s idea as well, and they had made Virgil return so he could tell the Prince his concerns that he thought should be obvious in person, only to be pulled into the whole ordeal.

He had wanted to remember how they’d all gotten there, the six sides that the world now knew about, names and all. It only made him realize how far his relationship with Janus had fallen, how horrible all that lecturing had felt from Patton, why he had finally tried to duck out not long ago. Why he still sometimes wished he could duck out again and stay out this time, if only it weren’t for that stupid Yerkes Doddson curve. If only Thomas could be safe without him.  
But Thomas needed him. He knew that. 

Nostalgia just wasn’t helping him recall how much he needed him. At least, not that kind of nostalgia. 

He had been here the longest, he reminded himself, he couldn’t abandon Thomas, especially now, when his lifetime was lasting so much longer than Virgil’s had. Was so much better than Virgil’s had been.

Maybe some more recent memories would serve him better than remembering that. 

(Final fun fact, it was the most difficult to figure this out so I encourage you to do your own research, but from what I’ve found, disorders relating to sudden impulses due to intrusive thoughts, such as OCD, tend to develop around early puberty, ages 11-13. After years of Patton nitpicking which thoughts were good and bad, Roald would split into Roman and Remus, the two facets of creativity, one Netflix kids and family and the other with a rating so mature it’s immature, now separate. While they are the middle children, they become independent of each other far after any of the other sides so far formed.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to quickly say thank you for reading!
> 
> Also, I should mention that I got the idea for the lore at the beginning, being that when you die one thing that can happen is you could become a side, from a gacha youtuber called • Kiera the UwU Panda •. I thought the lore could be used in an interesting way with my idea should I choose to continue this, I might not, but if I do that's where that lore came from. That little tidbit was literally the only thing that they inspired, and to my knowledge they don't have works on here, but I like crediting people for cool lore, so there.
> 
> I don't know if I'll continue this. If somehow some people stumbles across this and seem to be interested in seeing more, or if I'm particularly inspired by this idea in the future, I might, but for now, it's one and done.


	2. Subtraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil spent longer than he'd thought reminiscing about how they got here, and when Roman comes to snap him out of it, he ends up pulling the Prince into the figurative bottomless pit that is memory lane along with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I decided to continue it. Enjoy!

Roman found Virgil in the dining hall; an oversized place, given the comparatively small number of sides living in the palace, but it was based on the Great Hall from Harry Potter and he refused to change it. He wasn’t too shocked, Virgil often had trouble sleeping and would end up out and about absurdly early in the day, far before anyone else. Before Thomas woke up, even. It seemed to be happening even more recently which concerned Patton, but Roman had been unbothered. He was unbothered. 

Until he noticed the strangely intense stare the purple-haired man had for his mug, how the coffee was still completely full, and while he excused all this in his head, Coffee was part of Roman’s routine too. He was thankful that Virgil had left out the remaining coffee, as he always did, until he noticed that it wasn’t just cold, but settling. The grounds had actually started separating from the water in the mixture. 

The prince glanced back over his shoulder at Virgil. The anxious side was still just stirring his coffee, not taking a single sip, just staring at it with an intense look that even Roman, who practiced reading micro emotions so he could replicate them, couldn’t recognize. Furrowing his brow, Roman carefully walked over. “Virge?” The man didn’t respond. “Hey, Count Snarkula, you alive in there?” It took Roman snapping his fingers in front of Virgil’s face for the man to nearly jump out of his chair, dropping the spoon in the mug with a series of loud clinks. 

“Wha- Roman? What are you doing up?” The purple man stammered as he processed who had woken him from his trance. 

Roman’s brow furrowed further with a worried expression. “It’s midmorning, Virgil. How long have you been out here?” 

Virgil tried to stifle his surprise. “Midmorning? But just a few minutes ago.. I thought it had been a few minutes,” He drifted further into muttering as he went on. 

“Are you alright, Vee?” 

Virgil picked up his coffee mug, only to make a face of disgust at how cold it had gotten despite his stirring. “I’m fine. I was just lost in thought, is all.” 

The Prince cocked an eyebrow. “What about?” 

Virgil shot Roman a glare that the Prince didn’t understand why he had earned before turning to the table behind them that held a small breakfast bar, coffee maker, sink, and all. He dumped his coffee into the sink. “None of your business, Princy. I’m going to my room, catch you at dinner.” 

“Hey!” Roman rushed over and grabbed the sleeve of Virgil’s hoodie as the man pulled out his phone. “You didn’t even eat breakfast, you can’t skip lunch too!” 

Virgil shot Roman another look. “We don’t even technically need to eat, Prince Starving, as long as Thomas eats, we’re good.” He looked back at his phone. “The only reason I eat with you guys when I do is so Patton doesn’t give me another Dad lecture.” 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t-”

“I know!” Virgil burst out, interrupting Roman and pulling his sleeve free. “I know. He’s been getting better about that. He’s been getting better about a lot of stuff, hell, we all have! I just- I just…” Virgil forced himself to control his breathing and calm down. Four in, hold seven, eight out. “Sorry, Princy. I haven’t exactly been in the best mood lately. I think the ‘nostalgia’ is making it worse this time.” 

For Roman, that raised a few more questions than it answered. “Nostalgia, Virgil, what-? You know what happened with Thomas, you’re his anxiety, of course you would be affected similarly.” He furrowed his brow as Virgil turned his gaze to the floor. “That’s not what you meant, is it?”

Virgil shook his head. “Thomas almost got trapped because it was too happy for him to leave. _I_ got stuck _spiraling_ because I… Well, I don’t exactly have a lot of good memories here, now do I?” 

“What do you mean? We’ve had plenty of good times-” 

“Yeah? Name something from between the ages of 10 and 27, Princy.” The royal red figure shut his mouth, his expression falling even further into worry. “Heck, name something that you remember, I mean really _remember_ , not just vaguely think it happened, at any point before I came back here after early childhood.” Roman floundered for a moment, perhaps simply too stunned to recall something on the fly, perhaps really and truly struggling. Either way, after only a moment, Virgil turned away, pulling his headphones up. “I thought not.” 

“I was telling you about one time when one of my alters switched control to me in the middle of a conversation,” Roman began, causing Virgil to freeze. “I told you how absolutely confused I was, because the person someone had apparently been talking to was just rambling on and on about how difficult it had been to buy tuna in bulk, and how I was holding two tennis rackets and a bowl of warm wax for some reason, and you said it just sounded like something I’d do on a normal day. I was defending myself, but Janus came over and just took your side on it. Then Patton overheard and said it gave him an idea for a game, and we all had to hold him back from summoning a room full of tuna. To distract him we spent the rest of the day desperately trying to beat Logan in Clue. That was around when we first met Logan.” 

Virgil just blinked for a moment. “That is so random, Ro.” He met the ginger man’s gaze. Roman was smiling hopefully, as though encouraging Virgil to finally smile back. Virgil looked away. “.. But I guess you’re not wrong, that was a pretty fun day.” He snuck another glance at Roman before turning away again. “I still can’t believe how much you’ve managed to change, Princy. You absolutely hated us when you and Remus split. I might have believed you hated me before then, too. Now you’re actually acting like you’re concerned for me or something.” 

“I _am_ concerned about you, Virgil, you haven’t been sleeping well for a while and now you’ve stayed up who knows how long just staring at a cup of coffee! I never really hated you, either. We were two of the three amigos! I couldn’t forget those times. Plus, when we split, I don’t think I was that b-” 

Virgil rounded on him again. “Don’t say it. Don’t say you ‘weren’t that bad.’ Princy, do you even remember what happened that week? Do you realize what you said? What you freaking did? Hell, what you are still doing to some of the others?” The purple man took a step back and looked down at the floor. “You didn’t even say goodbye, Roman. Even to Remus, you didn’t say goodbye.”

Roman’s expression shattered. “Virgil-”

“No. I’m sorry Princy, I’m just- I’m really not in the mood for talking right now. I just-” He took a deep breath. “I know you’ve changed, I know you’re not like that now, but I just can’t talk about this right now, Ro. I’ll… I’ll see you later.” And with that, the anxious side walked away, leaving Roman to think about what had been said. 

Virgil was right. About all of it. Yes, he had changed, but that didn’t excuse how he had acted in the past, and that didn’t excuse him not inviting back the rest of the da- the others, he had to correct himself. They weren’t the dark sides. Not necessarily. He should have gone in person a while ago to make sure everyone heard that they could come back if they wanted. 

But what really caught him off guard was the comment of how he had acted when he split the sides. 

He hadn’t said goodbye. 

To any of them.

Sure, some he was only barely acquainted with, it was a big castle and he, as Roald, hadn’t always had the opportunity to get to know every new side that arrived. Mostly, he talked to Logan, Patton, Virgil, and Dec- Janus, he corrected again. They had learned his name only recently, and he still had to get used to it, had to get used to him being around again, but he needed to stop calling him Deceit. They were the four who were most outwardly vocal about their opinions, the ones who lectured him or who he lectured most often, and Virgil and Janus had been his friends for years before their conversations became mostly that. Even if he hadn’t known their true names. 

Hell, Remus had been even closer to him than that. They’d been joined at more than the hip, they’d been joined at the _brain_ ever since Roman found out about the presence of the alters. Ever since he’d learned about Remus, they were like brothers, always playfully disagreeing over little things but helping each other and, in turn, themselves whenever they really needed it. 

Remus had been a protector. Roman had to struggle to remember that. He honestly hadn’t known alters could split, even if they had once been two and had joined. He supposed it worked in a similar way to how new alters originally formed, because part of it had been the walling off of memories. He remembered remembering what Remus remembered from when they had been living, but he couldn’t recall those memories in the same detail anymore. But he remembered that Remus was a protector. 

A protector turned brother turned two parts of the same alter. 

Remus, in life, in death, in this mindscape, had been more than a friend, a twin, an aspect of consciousness, he was closer than even Roman could find the words for. 

And he had turned his back on him without a second thought. Without even a goodbye. 

These thoughts weren’t new, though. He had berated himself so much about it in private after what he had done. He berated himself about blaming the negative feelings that came from that on Virgil and the other sides. He berated himself about all of it, but he had never told Patton or Logan of his regrets. 

That was probably what he regretted the most. 

If he had told them he was regretting it, that he was having second thoughts about it being a good idea, they would understand. Logan had in small doses expressed his own logical doubts from the start, noting that “While their effects may manifest in ways that appear negative, many if not all of their purposes are not only useful but required for Thomas to function in a happy and healthy way, and it would be better to encourage these positives,” or something along those lines. Patton had been clearly having trouble convincing himself that it was in all ways for the best, fretting over whether they’d really be okay and whether they’d need anything. If he had mentioned his own concerns, surely they would have decided to bring them back. 

Surely. 

So why had he waited for something to push Virgil far enough over the top that he decided to make the trek across the entire goddamn _sea_ Roman had created to speak with the ‘light sides’ face to face? 

Despite what Virgil may have thought, Roman remembered the events of that week all too clearly. 

After his declaration of what he was so sure had to be done, and convincing Patton and Logan to be on his side about it, the leaders of the pack as they had become, he marched off to prepare the manor and the boat and the precautions without another word. 

He wasn’t even two full hours into creating the Nightmare Estate when he started having second thoughts. It was because of the way he was making it; it was basically decorated in a mixture of the ways that Janus’ and Virgil’s rooms had been, which gave it a vibe that simply screamed ‘stereotypical evil mansion’. He had started feeling bad about making them out to be that way. He had known them for a long time now, he knew that they weren’t all bad, he’d known Remus even longer than that, known him as a Protector, so why was he villainizing them _now?_

He brushed off those thoughts. He convinced himself this would be helpful, that it was like a timeout, they could realize that what they were doing was bad and let up, making Thomas a braver, more honest person. His brother could realize that the thoughts he provided weren’t all good for Thomas, and be more selective, like Roman was. 

Remus had no filter. That was what made Remus, well, _Remus_. It was a trait he’d used to his advantage, if not developed specifically because it was useful, was something their system had needed at the time. 

It wasn’t suitable for the mind of his perfect Thomas, in Roman’s mind, but part of him wondered if it would be right to change that. 

Maybe it wasn’t.

But Roman pushed the thoughts away. 

Even so, Roman took a bit more care to make the Nightmare Estate a little less nightmarish. 

By the time morning came, Roman was too tired to have any more second thoughts. He gathered all the sides he considered toxic or ‘dark’, with the help of Logan and Patton, counted, made sure they were all there, and shoved them out the door and onto a boat. Remus tried to talk to him at first, so did Janus, they tried to convince him that it was all unnecessary stress that Thomas had done nothing to earn, that they had done nothing to earn, but they gave up when they found it a hopeless endeavour. 

Virgil had been silent the whole way. He remembered recognizing that. The anxious side had just looked withdrawn, sad even, tagging along in the back, but he didn’t say a word. 

Until they were boarding the boat. Janus and Remus made one last attempt to convince Roman to just stop being so idiodic, though that wasn’t the word they used. Virgil had stopped beside them, still silent, hands in his pockets, just looking at Roman. He didn’t glare, didn’t pout or plead, didn’t snear, snarl, or hiss, he just stood there with a blank expression, his gaze searching Roman’s. 

“Roman, for the millionth time, this is unnecessary, and that is an honest statement!” Janus insisted more seriously than Roman had ever seen him. 

“You can’t just get rid of me as soon as it’s physically possible for us to be in separate rooms!” Remus shouted, more lucid and teary-eyed than Roman could remember ever seeing or hearing him, in life or in death, as one or as two. “You know everything I’ve done for you! Everything I’ve been for you, everything we did together when we were one, you can’t just ignore all of that!” 

And Virgil just stared, as though waiting for something. 

“Just get on the boat, we don’t have to make this harder than it is. Maybe when you come to your senses about your contributions, you can come back,” Roman stated dejectedly for the hundredth time that day. 

It wasn’t easy. They shouted at him, berated himt, for thirty whole minutes. Virgil was the last to remain standing on dry ground as the others finally relented and climbed on to the boat, Janus trying to calm down Remus enough to stop the tears that Roman didn’t even think his twin realized were streaming down his face into his mustache. When Roman looked to Virgil to tell the anxious side to get on the boat so Roman could launch it, he saw the look in Virgil’s eyes. 

He wasn’t mad anymore. He wasn’t panicking like he had the night before, or numb like he had seemed moments ago, he just looked disappointed. Mix that with the look on his former alter’s face, the tears in his green twin’s eyes that stuck in his mind, and the absolute seriousness he had never heard from Janus before, and Roman’s confidence in this idea finally broke. He didn’t show it, he didn’t say anything about it, but from there on, his heart wasn’t in it at all. 

“You really messed up this time, Princy. A fake crew so you don’t have to see our faces again as soon as we’re on that boat, and you don’t even say goodbye?” Virgil scoffed, turning and boarding the boat before Roman could respond. 

Things were immediately quieter in the Mind Palace upon Roman’s return. It was never a loud place to begin with, but usually some side or another was blasting their favorite music or carrying on a conversation with a fellow, but now it was just silence. 

Logan and Patton were apparently in their rooms, their doors closed, and Roman considered what to do with the now abandoned rooms before just deciding to leave them as they were. Like he had said, maybe he’d invite them back someday, when they proved themselves to be less of a problem. 

The next morning, after a full night's rest, when he was fully back to himself for the first time truly, was when he started berating himself. When the regret really hit. 

He avoided Patton and Logan for the whole day, considered going after the boat and turning it around, bringing them all back, but he forced himself not to. 

God, why did he force himself not to? His mindset had been all wrong. He had been convinced that there was no going back, that it had to be done, but he felt so _bad_ about it all. He should have gone after them. Should have apologized and begged Remus for forgiveness on his hands and knees. 

But he didn’t. 

He didn’t, and he regretted it every day since. 

God, he was an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Princy, you've already taken the first step to stopping idiocy: Admitting that you've been an idiot. The next step: Use this knowledge to stop being a gosh darn idiot.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
